


A Grave Interrogation

by JCF, Mouse9



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cemetery, F/M, Round Robin, plot what plot?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 08:21:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24347920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JCF/pseuds/JCF, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mouse9/pseuds/Mouse9
Summary: What happens when you get a group of people to write a round robin with smut?This.Potential crack?Definitely PWPA decided potential F.U. to dear old Jim.The Round Robin Co-Creators for this (it wouldn't let me tag them)  are: Broadwaylover17, MizJoely, JCF, Anarfea, GettingoverGreta
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21
Collections: Sherlollicon 2020 Flash Fic





	A Grave Interrogation

“And just what did you mean by that, Sherlock,” asked Molly, slightly shocked. Sherlock stared at Molly for a moment, a faint blush surfacing on his cheeks.

"I think you know exactly what I meant, Molly Hooper," Sherlock replied, soldiering on despite his obvious discomfort with the subject matter. "Don't for the love of god make me repeat myself. Are you game or not?"

"Of course," she said. "I'll meet you at the graveyard tonight at midnight."

Sherlock smiled that smile of his when he was victorious. That smile Molly couldn't help but fall head over heels for.

"Good."

Molly had the sinking feeling she might regret this. She was having mild flashbacks to sixth form shenanigans, when she and her friends thought they were very daring to spend their time trying to look cool at the local cemetery, wearing black and dying their hair with manic panic. She had a feeling Sherlock had a very different itinerary in mind. "Do I need to bring anything?" she asked..

"Just yourself." Sherlock swiped through his mobile as he spoke, "Oh, and we'll need a body bag."

Molly looked faintly horrified. 

"A body bag?"

"Just in case," 

"Sherlock, I thought we were having sex in the cemetary, not grave robbing!" said Molly.

Sherlock shook his head. “Molly… Couldn’t we do both? I need you. In more ways than one.”

She grinned up at him, running her fingers up his buttons suggestively. "Right, then I suppose the body bag will come in hand in more ways than one." She tugged on his collar. "Right then, lover boy, let's get going, shall we?"

Sherlock was almost disappointed when Molly pulled away. Almost. He wanted her; really wanted her. But he could wait until they got to the graveyard. He had to. Seeing Molly naked against the tombstones.... The image sent the tingles through his body.

"Yes; yes we shall!"

When they arrived at the graveyard, Molly grinned up at him. "So what do you have in mind? Any particular shape? Any particular grave in mind? Someone you really need to desecrate?" Sherlock leaned down and pressed a warm kiss to her lips.

With a mischievous smirk, Sherlock took her hand and led her further into the cemetery, 

The moon was covered partially by the clouds casting an eerie glow through the trees and Molly couldn't suppress a shiver. 

Eventually, they reached their destination. 

A lone black headstone shone in the moonlight, illuminating part of the name on the marble. 

H-R-L-O-C

L-M-E

Molly finally was able to decipher the name engraved on the tombstone. She pondered her next move. Then,she stated out loud, “Oh, fuck it! Take me now Sherlock!!”

"Oh, I'll take you, Molly," he growled as he threw the body bag down on top of his erstwhile grave - which actually held the body of one James Moriarty. "I'll take you and make you forget any man you've ever fucked before, or my name isn't--"

"Sherlock, are you jealous of Jim Moriarty?" Molly interrupted. He huffed. "No. Of course not." "You are! Why else would you say you wanted to make me forget any man I fucked before?" "Wait, you fucked Jim Moriarty? You said you only went on three dates?"

Molly threw her head back in laughter. When she reclaimed her breath, she looked him square in the eyes, a mischievous grin on her face.

"Sorry Sherlock," she spoke, her voice just above a husky whisper, "I don't kiss and tell."

"Oh no?" He laughed. "Not that I like to think of my brother at this moment, but we have ways of making you talk."

"Do you?" Molly smirked and took a step backwards towards the headstone, stepping over the body bag. 

"I'm going to need a detailed description on your plans to make me talk. I promise you, I am immune to being tortured."

"Well, then," Sherlock purred, sinking to his knees on the body bag with his hands resting atop the headstone on either side of her hips, "I suppose I'll have to use other methods of persuasion."

Without another word he pressed his mouth to the strip of skin showing between her light summer top and the edge of her jeans, tasting the sweat of her warm skin with every swipe of his tongue.

Sherlock then proceeded to unbutton Molly’s jeans, slowly unzipping the zipper. She shuddered from his touch. Next, he dragged her pants and jeans to the ground, revealing her soft, porcelain skin. Sherlock bit his lip and gazed at Molly, relishing in what was about to occur. His tongue made contact with her right inner thigh, and it gently made its way toward her sex…

Molly moaned and arched up into Sherlock's mouth. "Fuck," she said. Sherlock licked up her thigh, then licked and sucked her lips and clit. Molly cried out. Sherlock pulled back. 

"Why did you stop?" She asked.

"If you want me to keep going, you need to start answering questions."

Molly groaned and hung her head as the arousal in her loins regretfully subsided. "Are you fucking me?"

Sherlock glanced up at her, perfectly arched eyebrows peaking above gloriously blue eyes. "Well, no, not right this moment. Like I said, you need to start answering some questions."

Molly rolled her eyes and sighed. "You're serious, aren't you?"

Sherlock grinned coyly. "Maybe."

Molly sighed. She was in no mood for Sherlock’s dick-measuring nonsense, but she wanted his mouth on her again. “What kind of questions do you have in mind?”

“How many times did you sleep with Jim Moriarty?”

“Once – that’s all.” Sherlock dipped his head, licking a wet stripe over her clit that made her jerk her hips.

“And how was it?” he asked, his lips hovering only millimeters from her skin.

"Ah!" Molly gasped, the corners of the marble digging into her palms. 

He blew against the wet stripe, causing her to shiver. 

"How was it?" he repeated the question, his voice low and sultry. 

"Good. " She took a steadying breath and looked down at him. "Damn good, actually. He made me come three times before he started fucking me."

The look in her eye was challenging, a challenge that Sherlock was more than happy to rise to. 


End file.
